Risks and Dangers of Love
by theavengers101
Summary: A confused Natasha desperately tries to fight against the feelings she thinks she may be developing for Clint. She'll find it to be more difficult than she would have thought. Rated T for violence, and mild language.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Opened the door for her, kissed her cheek, hugged her twice, all in one day. What these things were beginning to mean, Natasha wasn't sure. Clint had begun repeating actions like these regularly, and they felt extremely natural when she received them. The two of them had always been close since he had saved her, and she never felt anything more than an alliance; a partnership. Yet for some reason she couldn't explain, that didn't exactly seem to be the case now.

The auburn haired master-assassin stood on the balcony of Stark Tower, arms crossed and leaning against the glass for support as she looked at New York's astonishing lights in the dead of night. Her gaze lowered, and she tried desperately to get through the confusing thoughts she was having. _Love is for children_. She had believed those words since the hospital fire, if not since before that. The only thing the illusion of love could ever do for someone is cause a decoy of comfort, something temporary to fill in the space so many people find necessary to be truly happy; to find comfort. In the end, though, the only thing love really did was cause hurt, unnecessary pain.

After a lengthened amount of time went by, the assassin took in a deep breath and straightened up, looking up to the stars. She ran a gloved hand through her hair as she brushed a strand of red from her face, grasping at anything her mind could find to get a grip. Slowly she turned around with her back to the glass, looking inside to the tower, to all her friends, to Clint. The reason she had excused herself to step outside was to get away from Hawkeye, to escape from the things she was thinking. Of course though, she couldn't stay out here forever. It was almost even immature of her to have excused herself. _Only a little longer, then I'll go back._ She nodded as she thought this, eyes flickering from Clint to the open skyline.

Raising two fingers to the side of her face, she gently began rubbing the side of her forehead. She closed her eyes firmly, opening them to see Clint had caught her eye. "дерьмо," she muttered as her eyelids fluttered and she pondered whether to hold the gaze or look away. The archer smiled and put down a glass he was holding, then began to walk towards the balcony. Great, just what she needed. A quick breath was taken and Natasha straightened up, brushed some hair away, and smiled back. _Get it together, it's Barton. You know him through and through._

"Is there a problem, Nat? You've been out here what, half an hour now?" Clint smirked and approached her, footsteps heard clearly against the solid balcony.

The Black Widow's smile relaxed and she leaned further against the glass. "Everything's fine, Barton. It's late, that's all." She glanced back at the archer and her smile stayed still. Everything was fine, really, she had just been overthinking things.

"And what, you're sleepy?" Clint answered and ran his hand along the top of the glass as he continued walking. "You're used to staying up late, I'm not buying it. Somthing's up." He continued his stride until reaching Natasha, raising a hand and brushing auburn hair behind a delicate ear.

There it was, the confusing emotions. He was so close, his touch so comforting. Natasha's focus drifted to her left until her sight settled upon a strong, muscular arm. The arm of an archer. Her breath stopped momentarily and then she looked up to comforting eyes, breath returning to her. "Trust me, I would tell you if there was a problem."

Natasha began to take a step back, but was stopped by her ally. Clint rested his hand on her slender arm and leaned forward, kissing lightly yet meaningfully on her cheek. "Well you better mean that. Now how about we return to the others." He smiled, pulled gently on her arm, and took a step towards the tower.

"I, actually I think I'm going now." Natasha's smile dropped and in replacement, an unreadable expression. Astonishment, mixed with confusion, mixed with hurt, and mixed with despair. Maybe she was acting childishly, it didn't matter. Right now she was sure that what would be best for her would be to spend some time away from Hawkeye, distract herself from him. S.H.I.E.L.D. had granted both of them some days free of work after Loki had left, but surely she could request to help with something, anything. She just needed to refocus herself, then things would return to how they were with her fellow agent. Quickly she stepped to the side of Clint and tried to walk passed him, being stopped by his hand at her wrist.

"What?! Alright, something's definitely wrong. Please, Natasha.." Hawkeye said hopefully and held their eye contact for as long as he could, keeping a firm grip on her wrist.

"Clint, I'm serious. Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'm going home." Natasha forcefully jerked her arm away from Clint's grasp, rushing past him and not bothering to look back. As she entered the tower she faintly smiled at her friends, swiftly lifting her jacket off the back of a chair as she walked to the elevator. "Good night, guys," she said as casually as she could and pressed the arrow pointing down next to the elevator.

Tony raised his eyebrow and glanced between the two assassins, putting his scotch down on the bar. "Leaving so soon?" The billionaire asked and looked at Clint, turning his head slightly.

"Yes, I think I'll get some sleep." Natasha entered the elevator as soon as the doors opened, forced a smile to her friends, and pushed to button directing her to the main floor. The doors wouldn't close fast enough it seemed, and Clint was rushing towards her.

"Nat, wait-" the archer started before cut off by the close of the elevator doors. He stopped in his tracks and ran a hand through his hair, wondering whether to follow her or not. Letting out a long breath, Clint closed his eyes and took a step back. He hated not knowing why something was bothering Natasha, and he hated when she left him unanswered.

* * *

Morning light shined through the crack of curtains, waking Natasha the way she normally was roused. Stretching, she began to remember everything that had happened the previous day. She sighed and got out of bed, grateful that Clint hadn't followed her after she left. She knew what she had to do today though; she had to contact Fury and ask to help in a mission, anything. After showering, brushing her teeth, and getting into her S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform, she was ready.

"Agent Romanoff, is there something you need?" Fury's voice asked through the speaker of Natasha's earpiece.

"Yes actually. Director Fury, I need something to work with. A mission, interrogation, anything. I'm up for the job." Natasha replied.

A pause came from the other side of the device. "Well you earned your leave of absence, but if you're sure, there is something you could help me with. It came up this morning, a man who will probably kill anyone he wishes. He's already killed several unfortunately, and we recently became aware of his location."

Natasha had never been more glad to hear a mission offered to her. "Of course, I could handle that. Sounds easy enough."

"I was thinking the same thing. You're our best agent under this skillset. He's about three hours away from you, we can send over a 'copter and you'll be on your way. It won't take too much time, I'm sure. I'd be cautious, though. The guy has proved he's smart."

"Great, thanks so much. I'll be out waiting, one helicopter will be enough. Don't worry about too much backup, I'm up for the job." Natasha pressed into her earpiece and the conversation was over. She was needing a challenge to set her mind back on track, and this was perfect. Working with criminals was one of the easiest things for her to do, she was made for it. The Black Widow looked down at her outfit, and decided to change. This strategy would require for her to look less experienced in combat, so she changed into jeans and a blue top. Simple enough.

Before leaving her apartment she slid a gun into a strap around the waist, then she left. The helicopter came shortly after, ready to take her to do something she had done several times before. Hopefully this wouldn't be _too_ easy, she needed this to really take her mind off of things.

The helicopter had landed, time went by much quicker than Natasha had expected. She straightened up and began unbuckling herself from the seat. "Would you like me to wait?" The pilot asked, turning to face her.

"No, I think I'll be fine. I'm planning on taking some time." Natasha replied to the pilot, smiling softly. Soft, quick steps were taken along the way to the entrance of what seemed to be nothing but a shack. The small area she was approaching gave her an unsettling feeling, but she tried to ignore it and continued walking without a sound. Wind from the departing helicopter blew her hair in front of her, and she brushed it back with both hands.

Finally she reached the small, damaged door and stopped to examine her surroundings. Empty, abandoned. Those were the two words that came to the assassin's eyes as she examined the dry, bare place surrounding the shack. _This will be easy, you know how to do this._ With those thoughts, she pushed on the doorknob, immediately causing the door to unhinge itself and fall.

Her jaw clenched, her heart picked up it's pace, her eyes fluttered. The Black Widow was ready. What she wasn't ready for though, was the quick dart that hit her neck, sending unwanted fluids into her bloodstream. Immediately Natasha's hand went to the dart and pulled it out, examining it. Desperately she tried to stay conscious as she could tell the dart injected a type of poison into her. The room was spinning, a man was approaching, and everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Natasha woke in a dimly lit room, the only light coming from two small windows near the ceiling. She tried to move her hands to her face but, not surprisingly, they were restrained. What fun, another mission involving her temporarily defenseless. Of course she could always get herself out of these situations, at least she had been able to previously. This time, she noticed, the task of freeing herself would prove much more difficult. Natasha realized that not only were her arms restrained, but her legs were as well. She was positioned on a platform which was resting at an angle, and as the assassin realized just how defenseless she was, a small wave of fear washed over her. Her situation seemed different than her others already.

"How unexpectedly delightful. It looks like they've sent me someone for company, an attractive someone even." A voice sounded throughout the empty area, and shortly after a figure appeared. As the man stepped closer, Natasha could begin making out some features. Sandy, layered hair covered the man's scalp, as well as matching colored stubble across a smooth face. His eyes were unmistakably blue, piercing straight into the woman's before him. As he came closer, his strong build became more apparent. Natasha couldn't help but take notice as to how handsome of a man this criminal was.

"I, I wasn't sent by anyone. Please, what's going on? I was lost and I saw this shack, who are you?" Natasha whined. She decided this was going to be her play: an innocent, lost woman who was just curious. For the situation, Natasha felt that may be the only way she could handle this, maybe even the only way he would give her a little more of an opportunity to defend herself.

A deep chuckle left the man's throat. "You can stop yourself right there. Do you really think I'm stupid enough to believe a lost woman was dropped off by a helicopter? A S.H.I.E.L.D. helicopter? You've been sent to turn me in, to kill me. Well you should have sent more men in for that." The man replied as he stepped besides the platform the woman was laying on and held down a button causing her to be angled in an upright position. "If you don't know who I am already, my name is Carsten. And who might you just be?" Carsten questioned and took a step in front of his captive.

Natasha clenched her jaw and darted her eyes away briefly, quickly returning her sight to the man before her. At this point she wasn't exactly sure to do, all she could try is to use the gift of words she was known for. "I don't work for whoever you mentioned, but they did ask that I see if you were inside this building. My name is Natalie Rushman, and I would really appreciate it if you weren't so rude to have tied me to this table of your's." Natasha stated, trying to sound somewhat calm.

"Oh but that would be stupid of me. I don't think you, or anyone knows just what I am capable of. Do you really think someone who is planning on killing so many people would let a woman like you leave with the knowledge of my location?" The man asked with a glare in his eyes. "This isn't even my real hideaway." Carsten's lips curled into a dark smile as he brushed the side of Natasha's face.

"So, you're planning to murder people?" Natasha tried to ignore the touch of her enemy and took a pause, thinking of her next words. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Because, Miss Rushman, there are so many people not worthy of life! It's my duty and privilege to make this world into the place it's supposed to become. One death at a time." The man's smile widened and he examined his new company, taking in every flawless feature she provided.

"And what about me? Are you going to kill me?" Natasha asked, developing a mental smile. She was getting a better feeling about how this was going to turn out. As Carsten's eyes continued roaming her features, she was almost sure he was attracted to her. And she could always use that as a benefit to make things easier.

"You can't expect me to know that just yet, I need time. Of course you would be dead right now if I didn't have ways of keeping you and I securely hidden from the public, but I do." Carsten stated and right after doing so, he grabbed some type of syringe.

Natasha tensed as she saw the syringe in the man's grasp. "What are you doing?" She asked, trace of fear found in her voice.

"I can't have you trying anything once you are unbound. This will just cause temporary paralysis." Carsten looked down at the needle while he wiped off the tip, then looked up and smiled at the red haired woman. He held the needle to her slender wrist, punctured the skin, and released the contents of the syringe.

"No! That really wasn't necessary, I wouldn't have done anything.." Her words became more difficult to sound out as Natasha felt her entire body became limp. Once her head fell forward involuntarily, Carsten let out a small laugh.

"You'll be fine, don't worry yourself." Carsten chided and began releasing Natasha's legs from her ties. As soon as he untied her delicate wrists she fell forward, immediately caught in strong, unwanted arms surrounding her. Carsten rested her neck with his left arm for support, and raised her lower body with his right. Although Natasha's frightened eyes were locked on the murderer's, the rest of her body was entirely limp.

"If you really did come with S.H.I.E.L.D., I bet you weren't expecting this morning to be your last amount of time spent freely. Hoping for someone to save you is hopeless as well." Carsten's voice was eerily calming for the words he was speaking, and his smile seemed to enforce that his words were true. He held Natasha with one arm and retrieved a small device from his pocket, clicking a large button. Soon after, the ground underneath the platform Natasha was recently on began to open, revealing a staircase heading downwards. Strong steps were taken to the stairs, and soon enough he was stepping down them, clicking the button once more as the ground closed above them.

Lights turned on and a large area came into view, along with a disturbing collection of weapons and tools. There were many in-progress designs for different things, and Natasha began to have a better idea of just what she got herself into. The next thing that came into view was a a shuttle, resting above tracks which led into a dark tunnel. Unfortunately that is where Carsten took them, clicking another button as a door to the shuttle opened itself.

"We'll be going on a ride, it won't be too long. We wouldn't want anyone finding you, now would we?" Carsten asked, knowing he wouldn't be receiving an answer. He entered the shuttle, laid Natasha on a bench-like surface in the back, and closed the door. Once a button was pushed, the shuttle shot off at high speed.

"Honestly, I've been hoping I might get some company. So far, you've been more than I could have asked for. I'll certainly have fun with you, Natalie." Carsten said, sitting on the edge of the platform Natasha was laying on. His callused fingers gently brushed her jawline, then began running through her auburn hair.

Natasha's heart raced faster, her breath quickened, but she couldn't feel it. She couldn't feel a single thing, and her body wasn't even aware of this man's touch. Her eyes looked in the opposite direction of the blue ones, and she desperately wished to have her body functions returned to her. With every passing minute she had stayed in Carsten's presence, she had only got a worse feeling about how this was going to turn out. Maybe it really was ridiculous of her to think she could do this on her own, but everything she had done before this had been so easy. She couldn't help but begin to wonder if she would ever see Clint, Hawkeye, again.

"You know, I think you'll make better company once the paralysis has worn off. Just sleep for now." Carsten said after a long silence. He gently slid Natasha's eyelids closed, taking sight away from her. Now she felt absolutely abandoned, vulnerable to anything that might be in store for her. With absolutely nothing to keep her awake, sleep quickly consumed Natasha Romanoff.

* * *

Clint Barton sat on his bed, elbows resting on his knees, face buried in his hands. It was getting into the late afternoon and he hadn't seen, or even heard from Natasha since she left Stark Tower last night. The two of them lived in the same apartment building, so he had tried stopping to check on her. There was no answer, and since then Clint had stayed in his room, stressfully thinking about where she could be, and what was wrong the night before.

The archer stood from his bed and grabbed his S.H.I.E.L.D. earpiece, pressing into it to contact Nick Fury. Shortly after, the director answered.

"Agent Barton?" The eye-patched man asked.

"Listen, Fury, have you heard anything on Romanoff today? I haven't been able to contact her since last night." Clint asked into the device.

"If you must know, Agent Romanoff asked to retrieve a mission. She's been sent to capture a criminal, but knowing her she'll be fine."

Clint clenched his jaw and put a hand over his forehead. "She requested the mission? Why would she - never mind. Well are you sure she's alright alone? She was sent with backup, right?"

"No, she said she wouldn't be needing any and I trust that she can handle the situation. We know exactly where they are, though." Fury replied.

"Are you serious?! You're saying she just randomly asked for a mission without backup?" Barton asked, aggravated. "Where are they, she's been gone for a while sir. Even if she doesn't want backup, it's not gonna hurt to have some."

"Barton, you know Natasha can handle herself on her own. But I'm not going to stop you if you really want to check up on her." Fury replied. "Do you want transportation? You can be there shortly."

"Yes, sir. Thanks." And with that, the conversation ended. Clint got into uniform, retrieved his bow and quiver, and left his apartment.

While Clint was strapping himself into his seat on the helicopter, the pilot who had previously flown Natasha turned to face him. "You do know that Agent Romanoff asked specifically to be alone on this mission, correct?" The pilot asked.

Clint finished securing himself and looked up to the pilot. "Yeah, I know. Just, take me there." He gave the pilot a stern expression and looked outside as the ground beneath him began to get further and further away.

Within a couple of hours they had arrived at the same location the Black Widow had been left at. Clint saw the small shack and immediately felt discomforted to see the small space in such abandoned territory. The archer unstrapped himself and grabbed his bow, jumping out of the helicopter. He slipped an earpiece into his pocket in case of an emergency and turned to the pilot, nodding a brief goodbye. He swiftly darted towards the entrance, drawing an arrow and positioning it downwards with his bow once he saw the shed's door had collapsed. He stopped himself and leaned his back against the wall adjacent to the door, bow and arrow at the ready. When he couldn't hear anything from inside, he slowly turned to look in the shack. No one was seen, and Hawkeye stepped inside.

As soon as he realized the entire area was completely unoccupied, Clint's jaw clenched with worry and he returned his arrow to his quiver. "Goddammit, Natasha!" He yelled and threw his fist against the wall. It was clear something had gone terribly wrong, no one was to be seen. Clint took in a deep breath and slowly turned to examine every aspect within the room. Surely he could find a clue as to where they had gone. He walked to a platform with straps attached to it, noticing a table with controls and tools beside it. He toyed with some of the buttons, only adjusting the platform's height and angle. He opened a small drawer under the table and found a couple of syringes.

"Natasha, where did you go.." Hawkeye breathed into the dead air. He dropped his gaze downward and brushed back his hair, feeling a loss of hope until he realized a thin perimeter surrounding the platform on the ground. Clint cocked his head and dropped down on one knee, sliding his fingers along the line. He fell to his stomach and pressed an ear against the surface, patting the area of ground within the area of the perimeter. Then he compared the sound to the one he heard when knocking against the ground outside of the perimeter. That's definitely not solid ground, he thought to himself, and stood back on his feet.

After realizing what his observation must have meant, the archer began frantically looking for something to reveal the hollow space underneath the platform. There seemed to be absolutely nothing in the room which would open the area, and Clint went to his last option. Walking towards the exit of the shack, Hawkeye prepared an explosive arrowhead to be attached to his next arrow. Once the arrow was prepared, he drew it from the quiver, and stood just outside of the shack. Taking his aim, the archer positioned the arrow to detonate in the center of the outlined area. A deep breath was taken, an arrow was released, an explosion went off. Clint was taken back slightly by the force of the detonation, and waited for the smoke to clear. Soon he could see his attempt was successful, and quickly made his way to the destroyed area. Much to his pleasure, Clint could see there was a stairway leading into darkness.

"Hold on a little longer, Nat." Clint spoke into the air. He held his bow to his side, adjusted his quiver, and led himself into the darkness.


End file.
